mesbooks Chapter 2 Ship Repair
Chapter 2 Ship Repair
The day after returning from Moon Island, Jiang Haiping went to see Lao Fang.
Old Fang's full name is Fang Desheng. He is 53 years old and a retired fitter from the shipyard.
Before retiring, I worked in a machine repair shop for thirty years, repairing everything from wooden fishing boats to steel tugboats. I handled at least eight hundred to a thousand boats.
After retiring, he couldn't stay idle, so he rented a tin shed by the old dock to make small parts for fishermen to repair their boats.
I can adjust the propeller's dynamic balance, replace a bearing in the gearbox, and weld a leaky oil pipe. No money required, just a cigarette.
When Jiang Haiping arrived, Lao Fang was squatting at the entrance of the shed, scraping tiles with a copper axle.
Scraping the bearing sleeve is a delicate task. The inner wall of the sleeve must be scraped to create a uniform pattern, allowing lubricating oil to form a film between the shaft and the sleeve. Scraping too deep will cause oil leakage, while scraping too shallow will cause the shaft to seize.
Old Fang's scraper was light and steady. With one stroke, the copper shavings curled into fine threads and fell down, leaving a uniform arc on the inner wall.
Jiang Haiping squatted down and watched for ten minutes without saying a word.
After scraping around the bushing, Lao Fang cleaned it with kerosene, examined the inner wall pattern against the light, and nodded in satisfaction. Only then did he look up.
"Hey kid, here you go again."
"Master Fang."
"Don't call me Master, call me Old Fang." Old Fang placed the axle sleeve on the cotton cloth, took out a cigarette and lit it. "What is it?"
"I want to set up a ship repair shop on Moon Island."
Old Fang paused for a moment, his hand holding the cigarette still.
"Whose idea was this?"
"mine."
Does your dad know?
"I don't know yet."
Old Fang took a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled.
"Repairing ships doesn't make money."
"I know."
"Fishermen are poor. A boat is their entire livelihood, and they have to cut the price down to the bone when it comes to repairs. If you charge too much, no one will come; if you charge too little, you'll work for nothing. Your father also wanted to get into fishing boat repair, but after doing the math, he realized that he wouldn't earn as much as building a big boat in a year, so he didn't go for it."
"I'm not looking to make money," Jiang Haiping said. "Making enough to break even is fine."
Old Fang glanced at him.
"Making it worthwhile? Do you know how much it costs to maintain a ship repair shop? The hull racks cost money, the cranes cost money, the welding and cutting machines cost money, and the spare parts cost money. Even if someone else covered all of that, where would you find skilled ship repairmen? The best ones are all in factories, earning a few hundred yuan a month. Can you afford to maintain that?"
"That's why I came to find you."
Old Fang paused for a moment, then laughed.
"Me? I'm retired."
"It's good that you're retired. You don't have to squat there every day. There's an old master craftsman on the island named Qiu who used to work in our factory when he was young. He's very skilled. You can help me take a look at the site, make a tool list, and just come over and keep an eye on things when we're repairing the boat."
Old Fang put a cigarette in his mouth, squinted, and thought for a while.
"Uncle Qiu?"
"Do you know him?"
"Of course I know him. Qiu Changhai, he joined the factory three years before me, and his sewing skills were the best in the whole factory. I don't know how he ended up back on the island, I haven't seen him since." Old Fang flicked away his cigarette ash. "Is he still around?"
"Yes. His house is the one with the broken sampan in front."
Old Fang was silent for a few seconds, then stood up and patted the copper dust off his knees.
"Walk."
"Where to?"
"Go check on that broken sampan."
Old Fang's shed was at the west end of the shipyard, while Qiu Changhai's house was at the west end of Moon Island. The two "west ends" were separated by a sea dike and a large salt field.
Jiang Haiping rode his bicycle with Lao Fang on the back. Lao Fang sat on the back seat, holding the seat with one hand and a cigarette between his fingers, rambling on about things from thirty years ago.
"Qiu Changhai's craftsmanship is truly superb. Few people do this kind of work anymore. When it came to wooden hulled boats, the gaps between the planks were filled entirely with hemp fibers and tung oil putty. The hemp fibers had to be evenly distributed, and the tung oil putty had to be mixed just right—too thin and it wouldn't be waterproof, too thick and it would crack. The gaps he filled wouldn't leak even after twenty years."
"Later, as steel-hulled ships became more common, there was less work to do grouting. Young people all learned electric welding, and nobody learned this anymore."
"The last time I saw him was in the 1960s. He said he was going back to the island because his elderly relative was sick. He never came back."
The bicycle rode across the seawall.
The morning sun wasn't too harsh yet, and a breeze carried the salty and fishy smell of the sea. On the distant mudflats, several women were bent over digging for clams, leaving a trail of shallow footprints behind them.
Jiang Haiping suddenly asked, "Master Fang, you said ship repair isn't profitable, so why do you still do it after you've retired?"
Lao Fang did not answer.
After a while, he pointed to the fishing boats on the sea and said, "Look at that boat."
Jiang Haiping followed his gaze. It was a small wooden fishing boat, about twenty tons, slowly making its way to the dock. The boat was drafted deep, so it was probably fully loaded.
"The boat owner's surname is Liu, Liu Laosi. He had his main engine repaired at my place ten years ago. He didn't have the money then, so he paid on credit. After that, he would come to my place every year during the fishing moratorium, sometimes bringing a couple of fish, sometimes a bag of clams. Last year, his son got married and invited me to the wedding. I went and sat at the head table."
Old Fang stubbed out his cigarette.
"Repairing boats doesn't make money. But repairing a boat benefits a whole family. I've repaired thousands of boats in my life. Now that I'm old, people bring me fish during holidays and visit me when I'm sick. It's better than saving money."
Qiu Changhai was squatting in the yard, replacing the keel of the broken sampan.
The sampan wasn't large, just over four meters long, and half of its locust wood frame had rotted away. He used a chisel to carefully remove the rotten wood bit by bit, neatly trimming the grooves. Next to it sat a new frame, also made of locust wood, smoothed out.
Uncle Qiu.
Qiu Changhai looked up. Seeing Lao Fang behind Jiang Haiping, he paused in his chisel work.
"Fang Desheng?"
"Qiu Changhai".
The two old men stared at each other for a few seconds.
Old Fang walked over and squatted down to look at the sampan. He touched the trough and then the new keel.
"How many times have you dug up this dragon bone?"
Three times.
"Three coats aren't enough. The grain of locust wood is coarse, so at least five coats are needed. Otherwise, once it's installed, seawater will soak it, and water will accumulate in the grain, causing it to rot from the inside out."
Qiu Changhai put down the chisel.
"Are you starting to tell me what to do now?"
"I'm just taking a look for you." Old Fang stood up, clapped his hands, and said, "You cut the groove well, it fits perfectly. It's just that the bottom part isn't cleaned properly, there's still some rotten stuff. Cut it down another half an inch."
Qiu Changhai looked down, said nothing, and picked up the chisel again.
Jiang Haiping stood to the side, watching the two old men, one squatting and the other standing, talking back and forth.
Old Fang's words were harsh, but every single one hit the nail on the head. Qiu Changhai protested verbally, but he still changed the work accordingly.
By the time the keel was replaced, the sun was almost overhead.
Qiu Changhai stood up and rubbed his lower back.
"Come inside and have some water."
The room was as simple as its furnishings. There was an eight-immortal table, a few long benches, and a yellowed certificate hanging on the wall: Advanced Worker of Binhai Shipyard in 1965.
Old Fang saw the certificate but didn't say anything.
Qiu Changhai poured three bowls of water. The well water had a slightly salty taste.
"Speak, what do you want from me?"
Jiang Haiping repeated his idea for a ship repair site.
After listening, Qiu Changhai remained silent for a long time. So long that he finished drinking the water in his bowl.
"A ship repair shop. You'll pay for it?"
"I'll pay."
"Will Fang Desheng help you inspect the venue and provide tools?"
"Um."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Ship repair. Seam sealing, plate replacement, minor engine repairs. If you take on a big job, we'll do it all together."
Qiu Changhai looked at Jiang Haiping.
"You're the son of a factory manager, earning only a few dozen yuan a month. Where did you get the money?"
Jiang Haiping took a bankbook out of his pocket and placed it on the table.
"The money I saved from New Year's gifts when I was little, plus what I've saved from working in the factory over the past few years. Three thousand yuan."
Qiu Changhai glanced at the passbook but didn't take it.
"What can you do with three thousand yuan?"
"We can rent a site, build a shed, and buy a used welding machine. We can rent old rafts from the factory first, and use pulleys and hand hoists for lifting equipment. We won't keep spare parts in stock; we'll buy them as needed."
Old Fang, who was listening nearby, suddenly interjected.
"Have you done the math?"
"never mind."
"When was it calculated?"
"Last night."
Lao Fang looked at Qiu Changhai, and Qiu Changhai looked at Lao Fang.
The two old men picked up their bowls at the same time, found that there was no water in them, and put them down at the same time.
"Okay," Qiu Changhai said. "I'll do it."
"I'll do it too," Lao Fang said. "Anyway, I'm just idling around."
On the way back, Old Fang, sitting on the back of the bicycle, suddenly asked, "You gave the Lin family that thousand yuan, how much do you have left?"
"two thousand."
"Two thousand dollars isn't enough to rent a site, build a shed, and buy a welding machine."
"I know."
"So what do you plan to do?"
Jiang Haiping paused for a moment before answering.
"Master Fang, my grandfather has an old tugboat at the West Wharf that he's planning to get rid of. I told him I won't sell it yet. The gearbox is still usable, and the main engine was just repaired. I'll rent the boat to Uncle Lin, and the rental fee will be used to offset the bill at the ship repair shop."
"Anything else?"
"The first big job we took on after our ship repair shop opened was Uncle Lin's sunken ship. After it was repaired, the ship went out to sea to fish, and a portion of the monthly profits was deducted to pay off the repair costs. Until the debt was paid off, the ship was considered part of our ship repair shop's credit."
After listening, Lao Fang remained silent for a long time.
As I rode my bicycle along the coastal road, the sea breeze carried a salty, fishy smell.
How old are you this year?
"eighteen."
"Eighteen years old," Old Fang repeated, as if weighing the age. "When I was eighteen, I had just entered the shipyard as an apprentice and knew nothing. I was scolded by my master every day. You're eighteen, and you've already learned how to get something for nothing."
"It wasn't empty-handed," Jiang Haiping said. "My grandfather's boat is real, and the money for repairing it is real. I just changed the way the money flowed."
Old Fang chuckled from the back seat.
"Flow. That's a good word."
After a while, he asked again, "Have you thought about what to say to your dad?"
"I haven't decided yet."
"What if your dad doesn't agree?"
"He will agree."
Why?
Jiang Haiping pedaled his bike, looking at the road ahead.
"Because what I did was something he had always wanted to do but hadn't been able to."
In the evening, Jiang Haiping returned home to find his father, Jiang Weiguo, sitting in the living room reading the newspaper.
Jiang Weiguo is forty-six years old and the director of a shipyard. He has worked in the shipyard for most of his life. He rose from technician to director, and half of his hair has turned white, and his back is slightly hunched. Everyone in the factory says that Director Jiang is a good man, just too busy to take care of his family.
"dad."
"Hmm." Jiang Weiguo didn't look up.
Jiang Haiping sat down opposite him.
"I want to set up a ship repair shop on Moon Island."
Jiang Weiguo paused for a moment as he flipped through the newspaper.
"What ship repair shop?"
"We do minor repairs on fishing boats. Barnacle removal, rust removal and painting, plate replacement and welding, and minor engine repairs. We don't take on big jobs; even if we did, we couldn't handle them."
Jiang Weiguo put down the newspaper and looked at his son.
"Have you done the math?"
"never mind."
"How much?"
"The initial investment is three thousand. We'll rent a site, build a shed, and buy a used welding machine. We'll rent old rafts from the factory first. We'll buy parts as needed."
"Three thousand is not enough."
"I know. Grandpa's old tugboat won't be sold yet; it will be rented to the Lin family. The rent will be used to offset the ship repair shop's expenses. The first big job the ship repair shop will take after it opens will be the Lin family's sunken ship. After it's repaired, the profits from the sea will be used to pay off the repair costs."
Jiang Weiguo remained silent for a while.
"Did Master Fang agree?"
"I agreed."
"Where is Qiu Changhai?"
"I agreed."
Jiang Weiguo picked up the newspaper again.
Jiang Haiping remained seated.
About two minutes later, Jiang Weiguo put down the newspaper.
"Your grandfather's tractor has a problem with the gearbox; it grinds when reversing. Let Master Fang take a look first. If he can fix it, then rent it out. The rent can be a little lower, but you can't not pay it. If you don't pay, people won't value it."
"Don't rent a repair site on Moon Island. The mudflats there are too soft, and the boats will easily sink. The rocky beach on the opposite shore is firm and suitable for rafting. There are three abandoned saltworks buildings there, which are under the town's jurisdiction. I'll call and ask tomorrow."
"Also, was the thousand yuan you gave the Lin family a loan or a gift?"
Jiang Haiping said, "It was borrowed."
"Borrowings will be recorded. Once the ship repair shop is opened, the amount will be deducted from the Lin family's ship repair fees. This will continue until the funds are exhausted."
Jiang Haiping looked at his father.
Jiang Weiguo picked up the newspaper again and used it to cover his face.
"What you did was your own choice, not something I made you do. So you have to pay your own debts and bear the consequences yourself. I helped you call for the salt administration's house not because I'm your father, but because that boat repair shop is useful to fishermen."
"Go."
Jiang Haiping stood up, took a few steps, and then turned back.
"dad."
"Um."
"Thanks."
There was no sound from behind the newspaper.
Jiang Haiping went upstairs.
Jiang Weiguo was the only one left in the living room. He put down the newspaper, took off his glasses, and rubbed his temples.
Outside the window, the shipyard's gantry cranes were still lit. In the distance, fishing lights twinkled on the sea.
He recalled when he was thirty years old. That year, he had just become the workshop director and wrote a report suggesting that the factory establish a fishing boat repair service team to reduce repair costs and make it affordable for fishermen to repair their boats.
The report was submitted, but it disappeared without a trace.
Later, when he became the factory manager, he brought it up again. The management team discussed it twice, and both said, "What's the point of doing something that doesn't make money?" So they put it aside.
He spent most of his life working on something he couldn't accomplish.
My son started doing it when he was eighteen.
Jiang Weiguo put his glasses back on and continued reading the newspaper.
The newspaper is upside down.